


Milk (Semi-Skimmed)

by nattycakes



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Again, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Oblivious John, SO MUCH FLUFF, obvious sherlock, sherlock needs help shopping, so fluff, what happens when mrs hudson doesnt do the shopping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-27
Updated: 2014-04-27
Packaged: 2018-01-21 01:50:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1533257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nattycakes/pseuds/nattycakes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Well Mrs Hudson can't do all the shopping, can she?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Milk (Semi-Skimmed)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dmfritsch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dmfritsch/gifts).



> Written for an amazing friend with the prompt "Mrs Hudson can't do all the shopping." And then this happened.

It started off innocently enough. John was pretty sure he was dreaming actually. It’s not usually out of the realm of possibility that he was dreaming of Sherlock yelling his name. 

“John.” Pause. “JOHN.” Stamping up the stairs “JOHN WATSON WAKE UP.” 

“What in the bloody fuck do you want Sherlock,” John half hollered toward his door, picking up his watch. “It’s fucking Saturday. I don’t have to be at the clinic, and it’s seven am.”

Sherlock had no qualms about personal space. Well John’s personal space. Trying to hide his morning wood (he was hoping it was a dream and that he wasn’t awake and Sherlock was going to come over and take care of his, uh, um, situation, with lines like a bad porn, but such is life.) He just opened the door to John’s bedroom. 

“We’re out of milk.” 

“You have to be kidding me. No, of course you’re not kidding me. You actually woke me up to get you milk. Of course, yes. Hum. Milk. Ask Mrs Hudson if she has any.”

“She’s with her sister.” 

“Of course she is. Sure, sure fine Sherlock. Give us a few to get dressed, yeah?” When he had rolled over, he heard the door click. Groaning, John got out of bed. Three weeks ago, he thought, three weeks ago Sherlock and himself had come home from a case, and snogged each other senseless in the staircase, and got each other off on the couch. Some heavy petting and he had felt like a teenager again. 

John had so many questions, but couldn’t find the words. He hadn’t gone on another date again, but he hadn’t snogged Sherlock again either. He would spend every ounce of every day wondering what was going on with him and Sherlock. You can’t count crime scenes as dates, but the dinner afterwards could almost be a date. 

Maybe. 

Well, usually He decided that depended on if Sherlock ate as well. Tying the left shoelace, he got up, took a long deep breath, and went and called out, “Alright Sherlock, let’s go.”

They walked down the stairs in a very uncomfortable silence. He could feel several times that Sherlock was going to say something. When he closed the door to 221b, when they walked in to Tesco. (They both had been banned at Sainsburys and it was better they didn’t go to the corner store for a while, plus John could get some beans as well.) 

Picking up a carton of eggs of the shelf thinking they looked a little smaller than he liked, he saw Sherlock roll his eyes. 

“They are the same as ever John. Honestly.” 

He put the eggs in his cart. “Well if you wanted to do the shopping without my thoughts, which just so you know is very unnerving you could have come alone.”

“I need your helping picking out something else.” Sherlock almost looked almost mollified. 

“And what would that be? I see that you still didn’t grab the milk. Semi-skimmed.” He waited a moment. “Now, please.” 

Sherlock walked away and John added a few cans of beans, a rasher of bacon and went to go look at the produce, while Sherlock quietly put the milk in the cart.

“Well that’s now sorted. Lets go, you can make tea.”

“John I need to go down one more isle.” Sherlock didn’t say anything else, he just walked away, his coat billowing behind him. John followed. He always followed Sherlock. His thoughts turned a bit darker. It was just a one off, he needed to get back out there. He was no longer having an identity crisis about his sexuality, that panic attack had already happened. At the very least he could maybe find a nice bloke. That thought cheered up a bit as he turned down the lane and his eyes almost jumped out their sockets, and his heart went down to his stomach. 

“Sherlock.. what, what are we doing down this aisle? Actually what are you doing down this aisle.” Dumb stuck. That was the phrase he was looking for, he was dumb stuck. 

“John, I am looking at condoms and personal lubricants.” His toned had the obviously already implied in it. “I would like to take our relationship further, if not today eventually, and do not know what products you prefer.” 

“Well, um, what products do you prefer?” A short paused was quickly followed by “Wait, relationship? Is that what this is?” 

“John, I thought you had learned some form of deduction by now. The dinners, the flat, the tea.” 

“Well, I mean, we had cases, and that was your decomposing foot you didn’t put in the fridge, and you made tea because one of your experiments turned the kitchen into a biohazard.” 

“Has that every, and I mean in the time since you have known me, stopped me before John?” 

He took a moment to think about what Sherlock said. It wasn’t love, not yet anyway. But this was a was obviously a form of affection and dare he say it, wooing from him. 

“I prefer water based, and I’ll let you pick the others.” He said with a small smirk. “But you’re still making me tea for waking me up so early on a weekend.” 

“Of course John, I may even make you breakfast. Well maybe lunch, I would assume the activities of the day will make you very hungry.”

John was now suddenly very grateful for the lack of milk in the fridge. 

“Wait, Sherlock, did you pour the milk down the drain?” 

Sherlock gave one of his rare, actual smiles and started walking up to the check out, maybe this time John would not have a row with the chip and pin machine. 

“You utter git.” And if there was a hint of fondness in his tone, well that was okay as well.


End file.
